Songs Of July
by DiamondLeather08
Summary: Avery Sarico is a teenage girl struggling to make it in this tough world. At eighteen, she moved from America to New England, where she is introduced to the famous Harry Styles. Unsure of their future and with Avery hiding a dark past, Harry and Avery fight to make their love last. But do they have what it takes? (Rated M for future themes.)


**Chapter One**

**Avery:**

I wasn't surprised. Flavor was packed, as it usually was on late Saturday afternoons. People were bustling this way and that, trying to balance a cup of coffee amongst their many bulky shopping bags. Teens laughed loudly, sipping coffee amongst their friends. Boring-looking men and women babbled business on their expensive phones as they passed the busy café on the sidewalk.

The warm sun beat down on me as I sat outside my favorite café. I loved Saturdays for this exact reason. It was my tradition, if you will, to brainstorm my latest creations outside Flavor, sipping a decaf vanilla latte and soaking up the summer sun. Even though this was a popular café, I could tell who made this a café and who was here simply because the coffee was good. I was one of the few who made this a café and not a coffee shop. And yes, there is a difference. A very _big _difference. You see, in a coffee shop, you'd find people who wore trendy clothes who talked to their friends on break about the newest pop bands or chick flick movie. But in a café, you might find a teenager wearing an unknown band's t-shit, editing his newest music on his laptop. Or maybe you'd see a boy vigorously writing the next Harry Potter. Or perhaps you'd find a girl in a floaty dress and cardigan reading a classic novel. Or maybe you would find me, in my peach and indigo romper, writing songs into a flowery purple notebook.

I was a songwriter, and damn proud of it. I took another taste of my coffee, my pen unable to move fast enough as my mind created my newest lyrics.

"Seriously, do you ever part from that book?" a familiar voice said from behind me. I didn't look up.

"What rhymes with heart?" I asked as a blonde girl took a seat across from me.

"Apart," she said. "As in you should be apart from that book for at least a half hour so you can talk to your best friend."

I smiled a bit at that one. Kara Sommers was my best friend, and one of the very few I had since I moved from America to New England. As soon as we met, we knew we were going to be good friends. We both shared a love of art, but in different ways. Kara was a talented painter, and could create a masterpiece when I could barely get past stick figures. I, however, could write the next most popular song and Kara couldn't hold a tune for her life.

I stuck my capless pen into the notebook to hold my place, tossing it into my bag. I'd finish that song later.

"So anything new happen this week?" I asked, watching Kara throw her hair into a beautiful and effortless ponytail.

"Well, I entered that painting of the birds into a contest," she said. I loved her British accent—I found it so adorable.

"And?"

"They haven't announced the results yet, but I know I got first," she said with a grin.

I was always jealous of how Kara was so confident with herself. Then again, if I was as beautiful as she was, I would be, too. Kara was peaches and cream pretty. Her blonde hair was cut in a short, modern do, and was naturally very straight. Her eyebrows arched like a 1950's actress's over her blue eyes. Her skin was creamy and pale, and she ate whatever she wanted without gaining a pound.

I was her exact opposite. My hair was dark and long and wavy, and my eyes were just as dark as my hair. My skin was too pale, and clashed with my dark features. Some people said I looked exotic, but I always felt like a brunette mess.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Kara, you have twelve million first-place awards. Let someone else win for once," I teased, my voice muffled by my coffee cup.

"Let's make it twelve million and one," Kara said, then she gave a frustrated sigh, cursing under her breath as she noticed a bright red paint stain on her flouncy white shirt.

A significant amount of weight jostled into my chair suddenly. "Hey!" I cried in surprise, turning around, annoyed, to see whom this rude, ignorant person was. It was a gang of teenage girls, none of which had noticed that they nearly threw me out of my chair. They were too busy talking amongst themselves.

"I can't believe they're coming back here!" one black haired girl said excitedly.

"Did you get tickets?" said another.

"Do you think we could get backstage?" a blonde asked.

"Maybe he'll ask me to marry him!" one exclaimed dreamily. They all shrieked in excitement. I rolled my eyes.

"Rude," Kara said as she sipped my coffee.

"Well, you know teenagers."

"We're still teenagers, Avery." That was true. Well, at least for me. I was still eighteen and wouldn't turn nineteen for another month. Kara, however, was going to turn twenty in three months.

"Yeah, but we're not like _that_," I said, jerking my head in the direction of the too-hormonal teenage girls.

Kara took another sip. "What do you think they were talking about anyway?"

"Beats me. But I'm pretty sure they were talking about tickets to a concert or something."

"Huh. Well, your coffee's finished," Kara put my empty coffee cup back on the saucer.

"By the way, how was that? I got all of three sips before you came along."

"It was quite refreshing, thanks for asking."

"You're paying for that you know."

"I'm not paying for your three sips."

"I paid for your croissant last week."

Kara pulled her wallet out of a mustard colored purse, "I wish I had a memory like you."

"It was only last week!"

From somewhere in the depths of my bag, an alarm went off. My hand dug around in my Coach bag that my mother had sent me last Christmas. I found my phone, yanking it out and read the screen.

"Damn it!" I said. I snatched my bag and jumped to my feet. "I gotta run."

"Where to?" Kara asked, not moving from her seat.

"Gwen's. She wanted me to help her pick out a dress for tomorrow," I said.

Kara gave a slow nod, "Ah. Are you going tomorrow?"

"To the engagement party?"

"No, to the circus. Where else?"

"Well, I'm nearly positive Gwen would have my head on a silver platter if I didn't, so yes, I'm going," I said.

"Well, dress to impress," Kara said with a flirtatious hint in her eye. "You know Gwen and her connections. Knowing her Brad Pitt will probably be there."

I laughed. That was probably true. Gwen had connections with celebrities left and right. "Alright, well wish me luck."

"Good luck," Kara sang quietly. As I walked away from the café, I kept thinking about what Kara said. _Gwen and her connections…_ For some odd reason, I felt like tomorrow night would change my life forever.

**Author's Note:**

**Hopefully that was an acceptable first chapter! But I'm gonna give a fair warning to this story right now: it's gonna start out sweet and cute, but it's gonna grow very dark very fast. I do NOT plan to write a flowery fan-girl fanfiction, but instead try something a bit deeper. I don't really know much about the band at all except for the one song What Makes You Beautiful. Scratch that. I don't know ANYTHING about the band at all except for that one song. But either way I'm going to challenge myself and try to make this amazing! So please don't be angry when I do a bit of my own improv and use my imagination because I really don't know anything about this band!**

**XoXo,**

**Charlotte**


End file.
